Plata quemada Page #3

---

A woman,

every detail of the encounter:

Words, movements, colours.

You live in your head.

That's what you become,

a head,

a skull.

In jail I went queer,

drug addict, gambler, peronist.

I learned

to fight to death,

to play chess,

to smash the face of anyone

who looked at me the wrong way.

To make little figures

out of cigarette paper.

To f*** standing up.

To lose myself in a book

and never come back.

And I built houses in my mind

only to blow them up again.

We came to Uruguay

with no papers,

we can leave without them.

It's not just the papers.

It's the whole structure

in Brazil... housing,

you'll be dogs.

Who'll give you asylum?

What's the fuss?

It's just a few more days.

Do you think they can handle

two more days here?

Guess who's here now,

in Uruguay.

Chancho Aguirre!

What do you say?

He's here in Montevideo,

with Interpol.

I told you, didn't I?

Don't f***

with Chancho Aguirre.

He wants... all the money!

Talk to Losardo.

Put pressure on him.

That's why I pay you.

The sooner we leave the better.

- Nervous.

- What?

The cough. It's nervous.

I had it as a kid.

Steam baths.

- It opens up the chest.

- Where are you going?

- To get some air.

- Are you nuts?

You said two days.

That turned into five.

Now it'll be 7 or 10 or 20.

I'm surprised at you.

What surprises me

is that we're still waiting.

Why do we need passports?

Our faces

are all over the country.

Policemen of all kinds

are after us. They're pissed off.

They want to charge us

for the two dead cops...

They want the money. Need I go on?

What's wrong with you?

You aren't like the others.

You use your head.

Want to know

what my head tells me?

At any time they could

break down the door and kill us.

What keeps the Uruguayan

from handing us in and keeping

- a bigger share?

- There are codes.

Only 1:

Save your skin

whatever the price.

I want to see the streets

a while.

Now that I can.

Do you like it?

I don't know. I can't see

sh*t with these glasses.

F***er! A**hole!

Son of a b*tch!

Son of a b*tch!

Let's go.

What'll you have?

- Here?

- Sure. Where else?

Beer?

Something stronger.

Whisky?

Stronger!

- Raw alcohol?

- And a match!

Buy some tokens

for the shooting game!

Loser pays!

Don't take too long.

Come in, ladies and gentlemen.

Come and see.

How much would you pay

to know your fate?

Pay what you like. The gypsy

will tell you what you want to know.

Anything!

About love, life...

No. This one.

Whatever...

What do you see here?

What does it say?

Two Pesos.

The blood of Christ!

WHAT IF YOU DIE TONIGHT?

What are you looking at?

Queer.

F*ggot.

Do you hear me?

Pervert, fag!

Sodomite!

Scum.

Are you going to cry?

Well?

You left me alone.

I looked for you...

I ended up in a cinema.

Let me fix your wound,

it's bleeding.

Hey, it's me!

You know,

in Africa they use

a simple technique to trap monkeys.

They make a hole in a wooden

box and put a banana in it.

The monkeys put their hand in

and take the banana.

When they want to take it out,

they can't.

Their fist gets stuck.

Getting free is simple,

just drop the banana.

But they don't,

they stay in the trap.

Got it?

Sometimes letting things go

is smart.

Strange.

I thought it was a story

about human nature.

The way it always

betrays us.

Have it as you will,

but think it over.

Chancho Aguirre

is pressing ferociously.

Now,

if you give him the money...

Would that be the end?

- If it wouldn't...

- Why me?

Why not tell this to Nando,

our contact.

He's a good guy, Nando,

but he's broken.

If they break once

they're lost for good.

People who can't take the pressure.

If Nando falls

don't wait a second longer.

Pack your things and scram.

God forbid.

He's Chancho's only chance

to get to you.

So? What do you say?

Ken Brown. Hi- Fi.

Diamond needle.

Stereo sound. It comes

in this ear and this one too.

Listen.

You know how

I learnt to speak Italian?

These guys taught me:

Bobby Solo, Luigi Tenco, Modugno,

Vianello.

Don't you ever

forget this, Nene.

Gassman.

Lots of Gassman!

You play Gassman

and babes get...

It's 211 for the police.

Want me to dial?

Central Police Department...

Angel.

Let me in.

Are you better?

Cleaning the wound?

Will you go on with this?

What do you want me to do?

Tell me. What?

Talk to me, Angel.

Say something.

Say something.

Lots of queers in this bar.

Do they bother you?

Just an observation.

It's not the first time

I see you here.

Just an observation.

You are not from here.

You're from Argentina.

It's obvious.

Your accent with words like:

Want, can, kiss...

- What brings you here?

- I'm passing through with fabrics.

Cashmere.

What are you doing here?

I live here.

This is my home,

my bed,

my pillow...

Let's sleep together.

You're handsome, porteo.

If I like a man I think

what our children would be like.

Pale. Clear eyes,

like the sun.

What's your name?

Giselle, around here.

But not for you.

You can make up a name.

I've got two kids.

They don't look like me.

They look like her.

My wife.

I like the way you lie to me.

Most men

Say they're single

as if I were stupid,

and didn't know

they were escaping.

You like men, don't you?

Sometimes. So what?

Are you alone?

With my twin brother.

Angel. My only family.

He's always after me.

He says I look after him.

Funny.

He knows me, the bastard,

as if he'd given birth to me.

He knows what I want before I do.

He knows what I'm going to do...

Now...

It's hard for me.

He's not an easy guy.

Suddenly...

Now he's not well.

If you talk to him

he won't answer.

He hears voices,

but he's not crazy.

The voices talk normally.

They guide him.

Sometimes I think

I'm one of the voices

inside him.

I'm the a**hole,

I don't get him.

What more could I want?

I'd do anything for him.

Anything.

I'd get myself killed.

You're in love, then.

Open them.

That's it, that's it...

That's it.

I'm here, I'm here.

Yes, I'm here.

I'm here with you.

At 21, he set up a kiosk.

At 22, he got married.

At 23, came the baby.

Disgusting, that kid.

You know

those garden sprinklers?

He was like that

but with vomit.

Then the kiosk burned and

he came begging with his baby.

Disgusting.

Give me a drink.

I said:

I have no cash,

but I can give you work.

No, he had

his morals and principles...

F*** principles!

You must feed the kid, I said,

so he can vomit.

Easy on the speed,

there must be cops.

Don't listen to him.

- Step on it.

- You crazy?

Step on it

and let's get out of here.

No stopping until New York.

How far is it? 12,000 km?

12,000! Let's do it!

Wooh! Listen to it.

It's like the one in Sorpasso!

I always wanted one like this.

Ah, Nene! Gassman!

Nene,

Vittorio!

What are you doing?

I love you but not enough

to let you kill me.

You speak Spanish?

Next time you f*** up,

I'll drop you in a ditch.

Where's Cuervo?

We have to follow him

around like...

And you're winding him up.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes